Good god I love saying hello to things. Hello, day. Hello, month.
Sometimes I just walk around sparking tiny whispered hellos to everything.
Hello, tree. Hello, red rug for yoga. Hello, palm of my hand. Here is a sloppy hello-kiss for you.
It is a form of naming things. Remember? I do. I am here.
But here is a hurting shard of heart-truth: I am not doing great with goodbyes right now. Not now.
Exiting, yes. I like exits as much as entry. Consciously exiting is a thing I care about. It’s just…
Oh, this hurts. I cannot bear to have goodbye be the opposite of hello anymore, I can’t have it as the closing bracket. I have been through too many painful goodbyes this year and my heart cannot contain even one more. No to goodbyes.
No to goodbyes. And yes to marking exits.
With a new name and a new form.
So this will be a passage and a crossing. A shelter for leaving.
Wishes of faring well. Like in the sea shanties. Fare thee well. Thrive, my love, thrive. Thrive while I cannot be with you.
Yes. Like that. Bittersweet, maybe. But not loss. Hope-filled and love-filled.
Okay, July. Let us look at you and remember. Show me what I need to take with me for this passage through you and into August.
July, sweet July. Things I loved about July.
Sparks across the miles, carried by moths.
The 10 27s and the evening ritual and the morning ritual and writing thousands of words.
Things under things. Lace. Hope.
Living out the love letter to June that spilled out of me, letting July be the fruition of that.
The 37 second video made just for me of bridge, field and the smallest hello.
Realizations. Epiphanies. The word “unlock”. Potential to kinetic.
Heart opening and opening and opening. Tingle-joy-heart.
Discovering new things about heart. For the first time in all my years of yoga understanding why people think backbends are exhilarating instead of awful and sometimes terrifying.
Plantings for the bells. Two different secret beach days.
And, of course, Rally (Rally!). It was Rally #22, and it was outrageously amazing, and I loved every minute of it, and I cannot believe how great Rally is.
And July was playdates and discovery and new words and ALL THE WORDS, and a just-right playmate that I can have the words with. Which is somehow magically easing and erasing lots of pain.
Things that were hard in July.
Loss. Loss loss loss loss loss.
Three of the most important relationships in my life crumbled and died. Or reconfigured, fine. But they are gone.
Well. One crumbled in March. And one crumbled two years ago and ended in May, but this was the month of feeling the pain of knowing: over. Done.
And then all the beautiful rituals that I love and loved so much that died and cannot come back, because they involve people who are no longer in my life.
And the place that I love most, the place that I love more than anywhere else aside from my fruit trees, who are also gone, more loss …
I might lose that place too.
This July was about meeting hard painful truths and not liking them and accepting them anyway. It was about re-learning the difference between detachment and numb.
It was about coming to terms with the truth that what I need is within me, but that to see the reflections of source, I have to remember how to hold and be and know. To be source and resource and reflection at the same time.
And there were terrifying panicky moments when I not only forgot that, but I forgot everything that I know about why things are okay and why they will be better.
All the points! I win at July. Because…
I am awarding ridiculous amounts of sparklepoints to myself right now. Because I can.
Specifically for:
- Healing pellet-pattern. That’s something I’ve been working on for years and this month it faded like it never has before. An old neural pathway of addiction: it is gone.
- Courage. I was brave about conversations. I was brave about the sad goodbyes. As much as I could. This is new.
- Using the tools.
- Taking it to my body, with yoga and shiva nata and dance.
- Walking the beach.
- Ringing the bells.
- Going to the (royal!) court to initiate the secret coronation.
- Finding the words.
- The sparkly redesign of the shiva nata website! Finally.
- The beautiful Stompopolis website! Double finally.
- Asking for help.
- Playing.
- Smiling through the tears.
And slow internal-burning yoga on the beach, listening to the sand. It had a lot to say.
Things I want to remember and take with me from July.
Knowing what is important.
Breathing into my heart of tingle-joy and my heart of releasing.
How July will help me passage.
I am entering August with much less weight. All those tears that have been released.
I am entering August with infinitely more information about what I want, what I need, what I stand for, what I care about, what I will not put up with, what I am currently receptive to.
I am taking the elements and essence from everything that has crumbled. Keeping the parts about sweetness, desire, presence, wonder. Letting everything non-essential scatter.
I am going into August with the strengths of the version of me who was able to handle everything July handed me.
With curiosity, receptivity and hidden strength.
The soundtrack of July.
July came in with this track, on repeat on repeat on repeat.
Shawn always knows what needs to be listened to.
July came in with the field of all the fields. Possibility and anticipation.
But then that changed.
And now July is winding its way out with this on repeat instead: Hope. Grace. Comfort.
With calligraphy.
Whitney reminded me about this song.
Stepping into the conduit.
I am taking everything I need with me.
I am releasing all the things that are done.
Fare thee well, July. Be a passage of love.
Play with me if you like.
If there is anything you want to say or remember about July, this is a secret fountain where you can whisper those things.
Or take a silent retreat. Or leave a flower or a stone.
Everyone has stuff. We’re all figuring it out. We don’t give advice or tell people how they should feel. We make room for people.
And! This is a place for safe adventuring. We approach with as much curiosity as we can muster, and a sort of loving non-dogmatic reverence.
*blows a kiss to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers, and anyone who made it through July*
‘blows a kiss back for making it through July’
August will be better
here is a flower!
it is a rose made of belgian chocolate!
Dear July,
We made it!!! And now I’m plopping into the river:
-the moments of panic
-the overheating
-the pain of seeing people in pain
-the memory of sweet Annie (may she infuse all the puddles with love)
-Jack, and the way he danced with Dee
I’m carrying in my pouch:
-my new love, bedtime
-the joy of witnessing people in joy
-how talking is like acupuncture
-body-nourishing movement
-extra special breathing
-the lake
-the trees
-the sweet country air
-fermentation
-fresh, green plants
-the bedtime ritual
-freedom and faith
Fare thee well, July.
,–.
,-({ })-.
({ \,./,—. ,—.
,`–{##,–. })({ })
,–.({ ,-(( })–.\,. /–.
,-({ ),-.({__\ /__ )#,–. )
({_ \ /__ })’ ‘,.’ `:_( })’
.’ `,.’ `.( {##} })_\ /—.
(( {##} })-..-`’.__,’ ‘,.’__ )
`._,,`’`._,’ ({ )_) {##} `:
‘.({ )_,’._ `—‘ (`–/`’\ ))
`–‘ `._`.\|//,’;`-( )–‘
,–.__`,`,’–._ `–‘
; _, / \| \- \
;_,’_,-‘__||\ ,\ |
;—‘ ,’ _/\|’._\’
; _, /||
jrei ;_’_,-‘|||
-o-
Leaving a beach pebble from my old home for July.You were, maybe not all I longed for, but you were something.
Love, love, love the new stompopolis site! Makes me want to go play there.(That screaming noise you hear? – my No Money monster having a fit!) I have spent ages pouring over it mentally collecting things I can bring to my own space to make it more playful.
<3
I am so inspired by this! As I read your words I thought, “I need to do this writing practice for myself.” As I further read, I found such amazing comfort in hearing your story, for it is very much like my own July. Lots of loss, lots of change, many new hellos, a deepening of self-love and ability to receive love.
I am not alone. Thank you for meeting me here to remind me.
Much Love ~ Juliann
-0-0-0-
Oh July:
Starting with five days of no power at home and living at my friend’s church.
Getting closer to my friend again because we all had to shelter at her church.
Compressing my annual monthly sabbatical into one week.
Painting the paintings and gluing the gluings. (yes, oh yes)
Doing the yogas and the Shiva Natas.
Napping the naps, because I could.
Baking and cooking *all* the things because a second power killing storm was a possibility (it spared us this time).
Being invited to a salon with cool new art friends and having all the fun (don’t worry I left some for the rest of y’all 🙂 )
Silent retreat on the other stuff, exhilarating and scary.
@ Havi, the new shivanata website is gorgeous. Love the stars 🙂
@ July
July you have been beautiful, beginning with the end of vacation and cruise disembarking. I will disembark from my journey with you today because it is your last day, but that doesn’t mean I won’t look back on you without fond thoughts.
There was some hard, related to bro in laws (yes two of them have major issues this month) and well, a lot of invasion of headspace from work. But there is also good progress and movement and flow. And as you especially know awareness of what I need to do so that I don’t get overwhelmed.
A leaf I found in the forest, and a pebble from the river bank.
_ ^_
0
|
*deep sigh*
Goodbye July.
July: Hitting my lowest financial drought ever, while simultaneously discovering a wealth of hidden treasures that have amassed during my adult life – all of the little gems that make me now an ‘expert’. And owning them. I think for August, I shall make myself a diploma, hang it on the wall, so I can give myself credit and permission to financially support myself and my family.
Yeah.
Ohhhh, July. I don’t even know.
Spangly Revue, perhaps?
–There were no refreshing swims.
–There were afternoon naps.
–Delightful surprises? Yes, I can think of at least one or two.
–Sunny energy? Yes, there was some of that.
Three out of four. Not bad.
{{ }}
{{ }}
{{ }}
{{ o }}
{{ }}
{{ }}
{{ }}
|
|
|
\ | /
|
Farewell, July. It’s time for me to swim.
Dear July,
Goodbye, until next year.
I loved our travel time, and our two day weekends together, and the pool to swim in, and new games to play.
I’m sad we spent so much time in heartbreak, and hurt. I’m sad to say goodbye to old friends, and all the house working that did not happen.
Love, me
P.S. The heat was hot, but the breeze was welcome.
Oh, July!
Thank you for such spectacular evocation of Summer.
Thank you for heat and sweat, so I remember my youth, with no A/C … and so I remember to continue preparing for aging, where my body needs more care and tenderness. Especially, thank you for fans in every window.
Thank you for the beach trip, for family, and for being able to go off to my room for a book or a nap. Thank you for plant-caretakers, who save my babies while I am at the beach.
Thank you for Havi and crewmembers for all their hard work on Stompopolis; thank you for the peep into upcoming opportunities there.
See ya later!
July, you are still speedy and weird. But I will be spending what remains of our time together in a house I love, with creatures I love, doing work I am good at, in clean and comfortable clothes. I am typing this while noshing on hummus and turkey and carrots and ice water. There is a bottle of white wine in the fridge. There are teas from France and Israel and India and the US in my cupboard. There is a carton of doughnuts.
You had your rough patches: shoes smacking the force field, ows and ooks on the health front, monster jamborees. But you also contained a fun road trip, easel time, toenail-painting TWICE, new clients, and aging iguanas finally, FINALLY out the door. And trying out two new sushi places in town. And seeing my first roller derby match.
And there was also letting go of some things that no longer belong in my life (an old college t-shirt; one of my mother’s frying pans; a heap of e-mails). And, in multiple situations, the pleasure of feeling rewarded for patience and persistence and asking.
July, I already feel like I will look back at you as a bridge. So here’s to the next six hours or so of getting ready for August…
July.. ugh, you came in hard, your middle was hard, and even your last day was hard.
Maybe I’ll look back and see the good in you, but right now… I will try to wish you a respectful and thankful goodbye.
– ? –
@>—–
there. that’s what i meant. 🙂
Leaving a late-blooming rose, yellow and beautifully fragrant for July.
Things I loved about July:
My introduction to shamanism. Hello, life-changing awesomeness. Journeying for other people.
Some sunshine! And spending so much time on the beach and in the sea last week.
Making exciting plans.
Sending the radiance kit out into the world.
Things that were hard about July:
Some goodbyes of my own.
The part where it has rained, and rained, and rained. And been freezing.
Frustrations.
The epic kitchen refitting going on next door.
Oh July. You surprised me.
Oh July,
Gelato, skirts, confusion, giggles, completion, anxiety, night owls…
Nachos, spires, hunting, stirring, apathy, Gorgonzola, baby elephants…
Forehead kisses, validation, indecision, needing, cappuccinos…
August, please!
Naps, planting, cuddles, ducks, peaches, nectarines, blueberries!
July, July!
You were filled with mad, crazy planning and scheming, with seeing impossible dreams become just a little more possible. With frustration and exulting, and with further realization of just how deep bone weary I am. But also the discovery of a wonderful new person to grow into. And a wakeup call to keep changing, to keep building the bridge to my new life of congruency.
July was hard. I finally did The Thing. Still hard. I’m not completely ready to exit July yet, because it feels like exiting the hard. Noticing this. Perhaps I shall leave a stone.
-o-
July, what a month! You were hot! The temperature and the insights! Travel that brought me back to seeing familiar things with new eyes. In you my home became more home-y, my beloved ones became more beloved. The garden is withering but I am expanding. Thank you, thank you. See you next year!
Mmmm, hugs stones love – for everyone!
July, thanks for all the Beach Days! They have never been better, because in an unfamiliar way I kind of owned them.
Mmmmm. Yes.